Gossip
by WillowOwl
Summary: Meet Jayleen Cassidy -the biggest gossip in the world. It doesn't help that she has senses like Sherlock, or that she writes for the school paper. And when she starts believing that he has a crush on the one and only Zoe Tucker, its just like Anton Rush to attempt to prove her wrong. She was wrong. But, oh god, it would have been so much better if she had been right. Future Fic.
1. How it Started

_November 29, 2015_

"I can't believe it!"

Dottie Piper was sobbing into an already soaking wet handkerchief as she watched her twenty-three year old daughter stare at herself in a floor length mirror, while Jess and Casey fussed over every crease and fold on her white dress. The other bridesmaids stood and sat all around the room, some smiling at Bianca, others trying really hard not to burst out in laughter at the sight of the middle aged woman drench a piece of cloth with her own tears.

"There," Jess exclaimed as she stood to examine her best friend. Casey walked over next to her and smiled.

"Perfect," she agreed.

"Absolutely stunning," Amy grinned at her soon-to-be sister-in-law from the loveseat she had perched herself upon.

Bianca Piper stood there, staring at the mirror with a blank face.

"Uh, B?" Jess said, glancing at her face. "Are you...?"

"What if something goes wrong?" Bianca suddenly said. Everyone was silent. Even Dottie, who froze after hearing her daughter utter those words.

"What do you mean, Bianca?" Casey asked, now slightly worried for her friend.

"What if something goes wrong?" Bianca repeated, her previously blank face now morphed into one of panic. "What if officiant doesn't come? What if we lose the rings? What if I forget my vows? What if I trip and fall and break a bone while I'm walking down the isle and I bring down all the decorations and benches and other people fall and break their necks," Now she was starting to sound extremely frantic, "and-d people are dying and sent to the hospital and I'm there with a broken arm and... and..." Bianca turned around to glance at her two best friends and Amy with wide eyes, shinning with tears that hadn't fallen.

"What if he leaves?" she whimpered.

"Oh, B," Casey stepped forward and wrapped her best friend in a large hug, no longer caring about the painstaking adjustments she and Jess had made on the wedding dress. The other best friend also walked up and joined the two of them.

After a few silent moments, not including Bianca's small sniffles, both Jess and Casey pulled back and looked at her pale face.

"B," Jess assured, shaking her on the shoulder slightly, "Wesley isn't going to leave you."

"He never will," Casey nodded.

"How can you two be so sure?" Bianca asked.

"Because he loves you," Casey said, smiling. "Remember how he told you?"

Bianca sure did. It was in the worst situation of her life, and she had doubted if what Wesley had said was true or not, wondering if it was just to make her happy. But the next time he said it, it was the sweetest and most sincere thing she had ever heard in her entire life.

"And," Amy put in, stepping up to the trio of friends, "he knows that if he ever breaks your heart, I'll break him like twig, and just as easily." Bianca snorted slightly, a smile developing on her face.

"Everything's going to be fine," Jess assured. "It's going to be perfect."

"Yes, it will be," Casey agreed, taking one of Bianca's hands into her. "Now, please stop crying because I really don't want to redo your makeup."

Bianca finally laughed and nodded, "Okay." The three of them hugged once more before pulling back again. "But, you know, you could have used waterproof mascara." Both Bianca and Jess looked at Casey.

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled, making all of them laugh.

"Come on," Jess grinned, "one more hug."

"Okay," Bianca smiled, before gesturing to the younger girl standing next to them. "You too, Amy."

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

 _Two Years Later_

 **Name** : Anton Wesley Rush

 **Born** : April 5, 2018 Redford Hospital, Lincoln, CA

 **Weight** : 7 pounds 6 ounces

 **Height** : 19.67 inches

 **Biological Family** : Wesley Jackson Rush and Bianca Noelle Piper-Rush

 **Godparent(s)** : Casey Cordero and Nathan Neal

* * *

 **Hello, peps!**

 **As some of you can see, this is a future fic. I know I didn't write this story up in my profile, but I just couldn't wait.**

 **Enjoy!**


	2. That's What You Get

**THE DAILY DOG: Hidden  
**  
 **August 26, 2033  
**  
 **Hello Huskies! Congratulations to you Freshmen that managed to locate the Hidden Page!**

 **Welcome back to another year of High School! For those of you new to our campus, please note that there are no secret elevators hidden in toilets or storage closets alike. And for you Sophomores, well, the janitors are praying to God.**

 **Juniors and Senior! This is the year! Junior Prom, Junior-Senior Prom, AND Senior Prom! We've got a lot of proms. And who can forget GRADUATION DAY! Of course, these are all during the end of the year, but it's never to late to prepare! Possible valedictorians candidates, get those speeches ready! Especially you, Miss Iesha Choi! But hold your breath, Osborn. Let's leave it to fate.**

 **We've got two new teachers thi s year. Let's give it up for Mrs. Ophelia Hendrickson! I was lucky enough to be able to spend ten minutes in a room with that woman, and let me tell you, Juniors, Seniors... you guys are in for a fun one. Pray you chose Drama instead of Robotics, because I don't think Jefferson's going to be in a good mood this year. Ask him...if you dare.**

 **Ooo, but Freshmen, you guys bit the dust in this game. Say hello to Ms. Petunia Thurman, your personal old cat lady. Be prepared for boring lectures and an overflow of history homework. Yeah, not a great way to hit off the first year of _this-_ much-closer-to-freedom. _But_** **... if you have Honors World History, say good-bye to Tuna the Cat Lady and hello to Mr. Lucifer Beckett! He's been around here for nearly twenty years. In fact, this year is his twentieth anniversary with this school. Bring him cake! He loves cake. And if that isn't enough to convince you that he's an awesome teacher, come on! His name is _Lucifer_! **

**This is Jayleen Cassidy.**

 **Good luck.**

* * *

"Woohoo!"

A seventeen year old senior was sprinting down the school hall, dodging and shoving through the crowd.

"Hey!"

"Watch it!"

"Excuse me!"

Right before he turned a corner, a hand suddenly gripped his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Mr. Neal," Mr. Jefferson frowned, glaring at him as he tightened his grip, steering him in the opposite direction.

"Oh, hey Jefferson!" he greeted, glancing over his shoulder at the obviously grumpy robotics teacher. "What's up, man?"

Mr. Jefferson scowled. "Mr. Neal."

"Right, sorry," he turned to face forward. "So... what did I do this time?"

"Other than running in the hallways?" Mr. Jefferson said pointedly.

"Hey," the senior grinned, "was that sarcasm?"

"Don't push it, Mr. Neal."

"Okay."

The rest of the walk to the principal's office was silent. Next thing the senior knew, he was shoved into a dingy wooden chair placed in front Mr. Dufrenne large metal desk.

"What's up, Mr. D.!" the senior grinned, throwing his arm across the second chair next to him.

Mr. Dufrenne smiled tightly.

"You might want to ask him, Mr. Neal," he suggested, nodding to the door. The senior glanced over his shoulder at the teenager boy in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" they asked in unison, both wide-eyed and on edge, turning to their principal. "What's he doing here?"

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Bianca Rush said to herself as she paced back and forth in the Hopkins High School office in front of her son and his best friend. "First day back! First day of your Senior year and you two have already landed two weeks worth of detentions. _Two weeks_! I'm shocked that you two didn't get suspended! Your father wasn't even this crazy!"

"Yeah," Wesley Rush said from behind his wife. "I waited until the second day to pull something this big."

"Wesley!" Mrs. Rush growled, nearly pulling out her own hair as she halted temporarily in her pacing to glare at her husband. "Not helpful!"

The two teenagers were sitting stiffly on a bench against the wall, watching as the fuming Mrs. Rush kept fussing, marching back and forth.

"Okay," one of them said slowly as he hesitantly stood up from the bench, timidly stepping toward the door that would lead out into the hallway. Never had he ever thought that he would willingly want to attend fifth period English Lit. "Since my parents aren't here, I'm gonna go..."

"Oh, no you don't, Issac Uriah Neal!" Mrs. Rush snapped, grabbing him by the hood of his sweater before he was able to grab hold of the door handle. "Don't you take another step!" She pulled him back and shoved him back on to the bench next to her son. "Your mother and father are going to be here any minute now, so you are going to keep your butt glued to that bench until they do!" Issac gulped. Next to him, his friend smirked.

"Don't _snicker_ at me, Anton Wesley Rush!" Mrs. Rush snarled at her son, who up until that moment was chortling at his friend's dilemma. "You are getting the punishment of a lifetime when we get home! What were you to thinking? Dyeing the pool blue? Covering the lockers in that stringy... spray thing that comes out of a can? Sticking confetti in the... I just... ARG!" Mrs. Rush spun around to glower at her husband once again, who was trying his hardest not to laugh. It wasn't working.

"Look, Mom," Anton began cautiously. "We're sorry, okay? It's never gonna happen again-."

"Damn right it's never gonna happen again!" she shrieked, whipping back around to scowl at him. "And sorry doesn't cut it!" She exhaled loudly before taking a deep breath, realizing that all the occupants of the office were staring at her. Even people in other rooms were looking out of doors to see what was going on. Mrs. Rush flushed red.

"We'll continue this when you get home," she snarled at her son, just loud enough for Anton and Issac at hear.

"The same thing goes for you, Issac." Mr. and Mrs. Neal had arrived.

"Oh." If Issac looked nervous before, he was downright frightened now as his parents walked up to him from the front desk. "Hey... Mom. Dad..."

Mrs. Neal smiled tightly at her son.

"Son," she said sweetly. Uh oh, she was real mad.

Mr. Neal was snickering with Mr. Rush, sending secret thumbs ups to Issac and Anton behind their wives' backs.

* * *

The two of them with standing right outside of the office door, facing the empty hallway.

"Well," Anton said, glancing at Issac, "that went well."

Issac, who got a similar scolding from his mother, shrugged slightly.

"Better than I expected," he admitted.

"Me too," Anton agreed.

A small giggle came from their right.

"Oh, this is wonderful."

Whipping around at the familiar voice, Anton internally groaned at who it was. Their red-haired peer was leaning back against the row of lockers with crossed arms, smirking at the two of them.

"I mean," she continued, looking forward with a thoughtful, but mischievous expression, "of course _everyone_ knows that you two did those pranks; nobody would read about how you guys were sent to the principal's office and got ten hours of detention." She glanced at the two of them. "But they might want to _hear_ about your mom's reprimanding." Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, she held up her cell phone. It was on a recording app.

"Jayleen," Anton growled, threateningly. "Don't."

"Or what?" she asked, still smirking.

"Or else." Issac wasn't helping, Anton thought. He was right.

"Ooo, I'm sooo scared," Jayleen teased, stepping away from the lockers, shaking her phone in her hand.

"Just don't," Anton glowered at her. "What are you even doing out of class; the bell hasn't even rung."

"Well," Jayleen, now standing in front of them in the middle of the hall, "I _was_ heading over to the bathroom, but then I remembered that you two weren't present in your fifth period class. So, on a hunch, and just my luck, I walked by the office," she gestured toward the door behind them, "and overheard the commotion."

"And let me guess," Anton said sarcastically, not finding any amusement in the girl's teasing, "it was 'just your luck' that you had your phone out, recording the sound of your high heels."

"Well," Jayleen smiled, shrugging as she clicked her four inch heels, "you never know when clacking sounds become the next trend after fart noises." When Anton did nothing but glare at her and Issac just stood there next to him uncomfortably, Jayleen mock-sighed.

"Oh, come on," she pouted. "You can't still be mad at me for what I did three years ago, are you?"

Anton let out a humorous laugh.

"Kind of hard to forgive the person that made your life a living hell for an entire year," he retorted.

"Oh. Oh well," Jayleen shrugged. Anton looked incredulous. Jayleen rolled her eyes.

"You can't blame me," she argued. "I write what I see. And it's always the truth. It was gonna come out sooner or later."

"You didn't have to make it page six worthy scandal."

"Any cheating girlfriend is a page six worthy sandal."

Before Anton was able to argue any longer, the speakers let out a high, gritty, rigging sound. Students of Hopkins High started filing out of the classrooms, rubbing their ears. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to the three of them standing in the middle of the hallway. Anton could still see Jayleen standing there smiling as someone walked between them, watching as she pocketed her smart phone.

"Uh, Anton," Issac said, elbowing him lightly in the side. "Shouldn't we get going..."

"Hey, Anton." That voice broke him out of his glaring match with Jayleen.

"Oh, uh," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as another girl walked up to him, this time more welcomed. "Hey Zoe."

The girl smiled at him, tucking a strand of her blond hair behind a ear, her other arm holding two textbooks to her chest.

"Are you okay?" she asked, still smiling sweetly. "You didn't come English, and Mr. Patton was asking me and I didn't what to say."

"Yeah, yeah," Anton grinned at her, shoving his hands into the pockets of her jeans. "I'm good. It was just... Mr. D."

"Oh," Zoe nodded, shouldering her backpack. "Well, I'll see you seventh period."

"Yeah."

"Great." With one last smile, she stepped around Jayleen with a small greeting in her direction, and continued on to her sixth period Drama class, with Anton staring after her. A few moments later, he felt _her_ stare on him.

"What?" he snapped, turning to Jayleen. She looked like the Joker on a sugar high.

"You like her," she said immediately. Anton did a double take.

"Wait, what?" Anton asked wide-eyed. "What gave you that idea? Your _Sherlock_ senses?"

"No," Jayleen shook her head before tapping her neck. "You look like a tomato." Then she walked off. Anton could hear her mumbling to herself as he rubbed his neck.

"Oh, this is gonna be great," she giggled before she disappeared into the crowd.

Oh boy. He was in trouble.

* * *

 **Hello, peps!**

 **This is the first official chapter of Gossip. I know the last chapter was really short and dull and it didn't talk about much, so I hope this one's more to your guys' liking.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Review, Fav, and Follow!**


	3. Reasons of Action

**Disclaimer: I don't own The DUFF, book or movie. I do own Anton Rush, Janine Rush Issac Neal, Nathan Neal, Sophie Neal, Zoe Tucker, Natasha Tucker, Jayleen Cassidy, Robert Cassidy, Ella Alderman, Mr. Lucifer Beckett, Mrs. Ophelia Hendrickson, Ms. Petunia Thurman, Mr. Casey Jefferson, Mr. Graham Dufrenne, Indiana Rodgers, and Iesha Choi. Wow that's a lot OCs.**

* * *

Jayleen and Indiana were sitting on the brown sofa in the Cassidy's living room. Jayleen was practically sitting on the edge of the seat, grinning like the Joker as she and her best friend listened to Bianca Rush's screaming from her phone in Indiana's hand.

" _What in the world were you two thinking!"_

"Wow," Indiana mused as she pressed pause on Jayleen's phone. She placed it back onto the coffee table in front of her.

"I know," Jayleen smirked, leaning back into the couch, crossing her arms. "It's great, right?"

"Millions of views to come," Indiana agreed, shifting sideways so she was facing her best friend.

Jayleen raised an eyebrow.

"Wait..."

She narrowed her eyes at Indiana, sitting up. Jayleen glanced over Indiana's expression; she was biting the inside of her lower lip slightly, her forehead was wrinkling a bit, and her eyes were too glazed over.

"You don't think this is a good idea!" Jayleen realized, looking incredulous.

Indiana hesitated, before slumping slightly in defeat.

"Okay," she finally said. "You caught me. Like always."

"Well, you can't hide anything from me," Jayleen reminded her, before crossing her legs. "So?"

Indiana blinked.

"So what?"

"Why do you not think it's a good idea?" Jayleen pressed, rolling her eyes.

"Well," she started, leaning her elbow on the top of the sofa, while resting her cheek on her fist, "let's see. You destroyed this guy's life during freshmen year-."

"I can justify that," Jayleen stated.

" _And_ ," Indiana said pointedly, slightly annoyed from being interrupted, "he's hated you since the fourth grade. He wanted nothing to do with you, and revealing that his girlfriend of four years had been cheating on him for three years and eleven months probably only fueled that fire."

"Yeah," Jayleen said with drawn eyebrows. "And that's related to this situation... how?"

Indiana shut her eyes and exhaled loudly.

"Oh God," she sighed, exasperated, "sometimes I feel like I'm best friends with a sociopath."

"I'm close enough."

"Somebody help me."

Jayleen laughed, before reaching across Indiana's lap toward the coffee table.

"Sorry, but I think there's a waiting list for that," she smiled, grabbing and pocketing her cell phone.

"I mean," Indiana continued as Jayleen sat back down, "Anton Rush is actually a good person. I don't know what he did to you for him to deserve all this school-wide embarrassment."

"Oh, come on," Jayleen retorted. "Not _everyone_ reads the Hidden Page."

Indiana raised her eyebrows, cynical.

"Then you haven't separated from your phone and laptop long enough to realize that your blog is practically the _only_ thing most of the student body reads. In all."

"Well then," Jayleen straightened up, looking smug, "that means they just enjoy great writing, contrary to all that garbage that the rest of the Journalism Club spits out."

"And that's what I get for feeding your ego," Indiana chuckled to herself, shaking her head.

"Besides," Jayleen resumed, "Anton Rush is not a good person. He just has this front that he shows the school; this funny prankster/nice guy whose worst mistake was using a t-h-e-r-e instead of a t-h-e-i-r on an English paper, when he's actually a stuck up little ass-hole who's incapable of using correct grammar is everyday situations."

"So in other word," Indiana said, "you still have a slight crush on him, you want to hate him cause he broke your heart, but you can't seem to."

Jayleen thought for a moment.

"Yeah, pretty much."

* * *

"Oh, you are in soooo much trouble."

"Yeah, thanks," Anton muttered, flopping on to his bed. Janine leaned against the door frame, giggling.

"Are you sure I've never met this girl before?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"If that ever were to happen," Anton said, "I'd never have another peaceful night. Or day for that matter."

"That's just gonna make me want to meet her even more," Janine teased, walking forward and plopping herself next to her older brother.

"Please no," he groaned, flipping over to face-plant into his pillow.

Janine smirk, before punching the side of his stomach repeatedly.

"Come on," she giggle, ignoring Anton's muffled protests. "Why are you so hung up on this girl? I thought you were begging for some female attention from a certain Zoe Tucker."

"I'm not hung up on her," Anton retorted, turning his head to the side to look at his little sister. Janine laid down next to him, propping her head up with her elbow. "And I don't like Zoe."

"But you act like you do," Janine grinned.

"No I don't," he protested, face-planting again.

"You're neck's turning red."

"... Damn."

Janine laughed as he rubbed the bright colored skin, before turning on to his side, mirroring her position with an embarrassed and sheepish expression on his face.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Anton admitted.

"What?"

Janine had a reputation for being a blabber mouth, and she knew it. The fact that Anton wasn't frightened of her revealing his secret crush was something strange for her.

"There's someone else I'm more worried about," he said.

"Jayleen Cassidy," Janine realized. "She knows?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. That might be a problem."

"You think?"

"And she'll write about it 'cause it's gossip, even though Zoe has a boyfriend," Janine realized.

"Who will kill me," Anton reminded.

"And then burn your remains."

"Throw me into the Pacific."

"And murder the witnesses."

"She can't write about it," Anton sighed, frustrated.

"Yeah. I'd rather go Grandma Dottie's body-less funeral before yours."

"No, I mean, if she writes about it, she'll destroy my plan.

Janine raised her eyebrow.

"Your plan?"

"Yep."

"To break up a happy couple?"

"Bingo."

"You're on a path to becoming a homewrecker."

"You're on a path to getting your mouth washed with soap for knowing what that means."

"Touché."

* * *

 **Hello, peps!**

 **There you go. Knock yourselves out.**

 **TheShulesLovinPsycho:** Thanks for _finally_ reading! I read your stories long before. No hard feelings. ;)

 **Enjoy!**

 **Review, Fav, and Follow!**


	4. Little Bit of Loathing

"Morning, baby girl," Robert Cassidy greeted his daughter as from the kitchen she sat at the dining table.

Jayleen rolled her eyes as she reached for a knife and fork.

"Good morning to you to, Agent Morgan," she joked back, hiding a smile as she poured a large helping of maple syrup onto her stack of waffles.

"Careful," Mr. Cassidy warned playfully, sitting down next to her with his usual mug of coffee, "you'll drown them."

Licking the syrup off of her fingers, Jayleen grinned devilishly, not saying anything.

Mr. Cassidy shook his head, chuckling to himself.

"So," he said, getting Jayleen to looked up at him with a mouth full of her breakfast, "second day of school."

"Yep," she replied through the food in her mouth before swallowing.

Nodding, Mr. Cassidy took a swig of his coffee.

"Anything new?"

Jayleen hesitated in the midst of cutting another piece off her waffle.

Her dad was prodding.

"... Not really," she said cautiously, eyeing her father carefully.

He fiddled with his coffee mug in mock nonchalance. His eyes were focused on the clock on the wall across him, but Jayleen noted glances in her direction. If his eyebrows were drawn in any more, Jayleen would think that he was disappointed in her, but...

She let out a groan.

" _Dad_ ," she whined, setting down her fork and knife.

"What?" he asked.

Jayleen leaned back into her chair and rubbed her forehead.

"You read my article," she stated, glancing at him.

Mr. Cassidy huffed slightly in defeat. He couldn't keep anything from her, whether he wanted to or not.

"Okay, I did," he admitted. He continued even as Jayleen began to speak.

"But you've been writing-."

"It's my article!"

"-things that can be considered-."

"It's not like I'm outwardly bullying anyone!"

" _-bullying_ , and also rude. Very rude and-."

"There's a reason why it's a hidden page."

"-it fuel your strange need to gossip about everything-."

"Freedom of speech!"

"-and anything. That need's already lost you one friend-."

"Wait. What?"

Mr. Cassidy shrugged calmly, in contrast to Jayleen's sudden wide-eyed outburst.

"You know," he reminded her, "that boy you were 'besties' with in elementary school? Brown eyes, shaggy hair, loved Iron Man? I think you two even had a feud on whether Marvel or DC comics was better. What was his name..." He glanced at his daughter, whose face was almost as red as her hair.

"Dad!"

"What?" he said innocently. "I'm just saying. You ran home crying that day, remember? When I asked you, you said that he didn't want to be your friend anymore because of something you said."

"Dad!" Jayleen finally managed to cut in. "That was eight years ago."

"Doesn't mean it can't happen again."

The embarrassed grin was wiped off Jayleen's face as she glanced down at her now soggy waffles, not meeting her father's eye.

Mr. Cassidy seemed to realize his mistake.

"Jayleen-."

"No," Jayleen said quickly, stabbing her breakfast halfheartedly. "It's okay. I get what you mean."

"Sweetie-."

"I'm going to be late for school," Jayleen told him, still not looking at his face as she grabbed her backpack off the floor and stood up. "I'll see you later."

"Sweetie, I didn't mean-." Jayleen was making her way to the door as her father stood up.

"Bye, Dad."

The front door slammed shut before Robert Cassidy could finish.

He sighed and sunk back down into his chair. He heard the car engine roared to life.

The tires squeaked against the road as she sped away.

* * *

"No."

"Oh, why not?"

"I've told you a million times, Iesha. No. I will not go on a date with you."

"Come on, hot stuff. Why so uptight?"

She still was trailing after him even as he turn the corner, heading to his locker.

"Ieash-."

"You know, I know a way I could help you release all that stress built up in your... body."

Anton had a hard time trying not to gag at the suggestiveness of the comment.

Iesha Choi had an unfortunate obsession with him since the seventh grade when he got her out of some hot water. Their science teacher had it in for Iesha, being as she was a know-it-all who loved proving Ms. Flamme wrong. One day, Iesha took a step too far and landed herself in detention. Anton was the one who helped her organize all her homework to make up for the three hours of lost time.

It wasn't much of a favor. At least, that was what he thought at the time.

He had a hard time trying to drown her out as he opened his locker as quickly as he could.

"-exercise can do amazing thing-."

His hand shot out to grab his Economics textbook.

"-you have a test coming up, right? It could help with your focus? Or not..."

He slammed his locker door shut.

"Look, Iesha," Anton said through a tight smile. "I'm flattered, really. But, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, you _seriously_ -."

"Anton!"

 _Oh, thank god,_ Anton thought, sighing silently in relief as he spotted Issac jogging toward him.

"Hey!" he called back, the two of them sharing a fist bump in greeting. Iesha looked less than amused, glaring at Issac with a hatred that "could have fueled the fires of Hell". His words.

"Ready for economics?" Issac asked him, just to spite her further.

"Yeah, let's go." Anton tried to not sound too relieved.

"Great," Issac exclaimed, and as Anton quickly turned to lock his locker, he heard him say, "Oh, hey Iesha. Didn't see you there."

It wasn't until the two of the had turned a corner down the hall did they glance at each other, and then burst into laughter. At least, Issac did.

"Ha, you should have seen your face!" Issac said, still laughing like a madman.

"Yeah, yeah," Anton groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Keep it up, Neal."

"Well, I'm sorry if I that pleasure in you misfortunes," he said sarcastically. "But that, that was priceless."

"Good God, now you're sounding like Cassidy."

"At least I'm still your best friend."

Anton froze for a moment before Issac realized why he had said.

"Anton-."

Anton glared at him slightly.

Issac sighed, "Sorry."

They started on their way to their economics class once again.

"So," Issac said after a moment. "How do you feel about homecoming?"

Anton silently thanked his friend for the change in subject.

"I don't know," he told him, shrugging as they approached the classroom.

"Well, I've gotta an idea."

His ever famous smirk slowly spread across his face, the previously event forgotten.

"What kind of idea?"

* * *

 **Hey peps!**

 **Ugh, finally! An update! It's been, what, a year?**

 **That's it. I'm** **officially stupid.**

 **Anyway...** **Here it finally is.**

 **By the way, just a little tidbit (and a warning), this entire story is not planned. At all. I'm just writing whatever goes through my mind, so I have no clue where this story is going. I can't follow a plan, so yeah. It's going to be quite a ride, for you reader. I might (probably will) change things every now and then. I'll try to remember to tell you when I do.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Review, Fav, and Follow!**


	5. Mental Floss

**Disclaimer: I only own my original characters. Nothing else.**

* * *

Jayleen was confuddled. Like, really confuddled.

The small black curser was blinking up at her, unmoving, and damning her to hell. No matter what she did, her fingers just wouldn't move over the keypad. Instead, they stayed frozen in the same position, feeling like lead weights that would crush her laptop if she so much as twitched. Her brain felt like a bad batch of homemade putty: weird and icky in the worst possible way. Not a single coherent thought stood out among the chaos.

Was this... writer's block?

What? No. No, not writer's block. Jayleen had never experience writer's block in her life. She always had something to write about, something to rant about, something to say in any given situation. It wasn't like she didn't have a topic; the recent Anton-Issac episode was more than enough to get her writing juices flowing. So why couldn't she do anything?

Jayleen stared down at her hands. They stared right back at her.

 _Come on. MOVE._

Jayleen would never admit the strangled scream/grunt/cry(s) of frustration that was(were) produced by her throat that day.

After a few more tortured minutes of screaming bloody murder and eyebrow pushups, Jayleen -for the first time ever- gave up.

That feeling, giving up, how much did she hated it?

Very much. Very much was the answer. And when her phone started ringing, Jayleen more or less leaped across the room and pounced on it like a cat, wasting no time to accept the call and proceed to yell into it.

"Indiana Margret Pearce!"

The other end of the line went silent for a good five seconds.

"Um," Indiana said hesitantly, "...yes?"

Jayleen flopped on to her bed. "Help me. Something's very, horribly wrong."

"Horribly wrong enough to warrant my full name?"

"Yes. I should have added a 'Miss,' now that you mention it."

A small sigh floated through the phone. Jayleen could practically hear the exasperated fail expression Indiana was emoting.

"Well, at least you campy humor's still there," she remarked dryly. "Hit me. What's wrong?"

Jayleen could feel her face twitching and contorting into a twisted frown from just thinking about it.

"I-," she didn't want to say it, "have-," _Jayleen, don't admit it_ , "writer's... block."

From the other side of the phone connections, Jayleen heard Indiana breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Wow, for a moment there I thought something was actually wrong," she said.

Jayleen blinked. "I'm serious."

"So am I," Indiana replied.

"Then why are you not reacting?"

"I responded," she deadpanned. "That's a reaction."

"Writer's block. I have _writer's block_."

"So?"

"Indiana!" Jayleen cried, practically glaring into her phone as she sat up on her bed.

Indiana couldn't help but laugh at her friend. "I was going to happen eventually. Happens to everyone."

Jayleen clenched her jaw. "Yes," she agreed, "it happens to everyone. But I am not _everyone_."

"Just is there a limit to how narcissistic you can be, Miss Cassidy?" Indiana said, snorting.

"Hm," Jayleen hummed dryly, "the limit does not exist."

"I walked into that one, huh?"

"Meet you a Bongo's in ten?"

"You got it."

* * *

"So what exactly is wrong with you?"

Watching as the bowling ball rolled off into the right gutter, Jayleen uncrossed her arms and stood up.

"You suck so bad at this," she said.

"Haha," Indiana respond tonelessly as she plunked herself down on a red plastic chair, reclining with her legs stretched out in front of her. After picking out her bowling ball, Jayleen stepped up to the platform, holding the ball close to her chest. "You're avoiding my question."

Jayleen said nothing, only staring forward at the triangle of pins, eyes gleaming with predator-like focus. She stepped forward.

"Jayleen," Indiana droned. "Come on. What's the big deal? Face it, you've got writer's-."

Jayleen launched the ball forward and sent it whizzing down the lane, effectively cutting off Indiana's train of thought. A second later, the bowling ball was crashing through the pins.

Strike.

Indiana kissed her teeth, humming to herself. "We should have played air hockey."

Jayleen spun around, looking completely offended by the suggestion. "But I suck at air hockey."

"I know."

"Indiana!"

She pointed at Jayleen. "And that's the third time you've yelled at me today," she commented.

"Coming to Bongo's was suppose to be about making me feel better, not worse," Jayleen pouted, ignoring her words.

"Well, there's something else that would make you feel better."

Jayleen perked up, an eager grin spreading across her face. "What?"

Indiana smirked. "Spilling you guts to your best friend."

Her smile fell.

"What more is there to say?" she grumbled, slumping down into the chair next Indiana. "I can't write. Nothing's coming to mind. My hands aren't typing a single letter. I'm never going to ever be able to write again. I'm a failure."

Indiana scowled and punched her in the arm. "Stop being so melodramatic. You can't write at the moment. So what? You've been writing nonstop since before you were even potty trained. At this point, you've probably written more in seventeen years than the entire student body has combined. And this is your first time experiencing writer's block? Please. You are -and I'm saying this at the risk of further inflating your ego- a miracle. So snap the hell out of it and get your shit together."

Jayleen was silent for a few minutes, contemplating everything Indiana said.

"You're right," she finally said, nodding her head. "I am a miracle."

Indiana chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, you are. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

Jayleen tilted her head, looking at her with a small, smug grin.

"I," she said, "am gonna go play some air hockey."

"You suck at air hockey," Indiana reminded her, but grinned nonetheless.

"I know," Jayleen said, as she changed out of her bowling shoes and stood up. "But something's telling me to go for it."

"Why are you so cheesy?" Indiana asked only half-jokingly. "It's so bad, it's almost good."

Jayleen gave a short laugh, but didn't respond.

Indiana rolled her eye, changing out of her own shoes. "Come on. It's time for me to whop your ass."

"We'll see."

The two girls stepped out of the bowling area and into the brightly lit arcade. Colors flashed in every direction imaginable. Being as it was Thursday afternoon, the only people around were adults that should have been too old to be playing Donkey Kong and elementary school kids dishing it out in Dance Dance Revolution.

"Hurry," Indiana said, grabbing Jayleen's wrist to drag her along faster. "The air hockey tables might be taken already."

And they were. Four tables were surrounded by midgets, scrambling around with quarters, impatiently waiting for their turn and buzzing around like oversized house flies. Except...

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me."

* * *

 **Why, hello there. :D**

 **Not going to burden you with my personal issues; just in the process of pulling my shit together.**

 **Reviews keep me going! If you love, review. If you hate, review. If you couldn't care less, leave me a little smile face just for the heck of it.**


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